


Fuck you, Johnny

by skai6 (Biosahar)



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Badass V, Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, Drama & Romance, Emotionally Repressed Johnny, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Flirting, Frustrated V, Hair-pulling, Happy Ending, Infiltrating Arasaka Tower 2.0, Jealousy, Johnny gets his body back in ch 7, Judy's a good friend, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of Judy/Panam, Name-Calling, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Fixation, Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panam is bisexual, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Soft sex, Spoilers related to Johnny's side quest, Strap-Ons, Trans Male V (Cyberpunk 2077), Vaginal Sex, Versatile Johnny Silverhand, Versatile V, blowjob, might be considered a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biosahar/pseuds/skai6
Summary: Having a legendary terrorist live in one's head is weird enough. Developing feelings for him? Now that's plain catastrophical.Or: Johnny is terribly stubborn when it comes to talking about feelings. V is about done with his constant self-denial. Now he has to help him retrieve his body? Fuck that.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Male V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 104
Kudos: 361





	1. Chapter 1

He’s in his head. He’s in his thoughts. He’s in his mind.

When he’s eating, when he’s breathing, when he’s sleeping. He’s there. When he’s kissing, when he’s killing, when he’s fucking. He’s there. When he’s dying, when he’s breaking down, when he’s crying. He’s still there.

He’s always there. Omnipresent, ever-watching, judging. Like a god. Like a curse. Like a pain in V’s ass.

He’s always there and V hated him. He hated him, then he tolerated him, then he learned more about him, then he pitied him.

Then he liked him.

Or at least as far as one could like someone tied to their hip twenty-four-seven. Someone who knows what type of toothpaste you hate and what toilet paper you use and what kind of porn turns you on and what level of disgusting you are when you leave the bathroom without washing your hands only to shake them with the biggest fixer of Heywood the very next hour. Someone who laughs, and tells you the asshole deserved it, and pats you on the back and tells you _good job_ on the way out.

 _For what?_ V would ask. _For being a disgusting piece of shit_ , Johnny would say.

It’s a strange kind of codependence, what they had. V didn’t ask for it in the beginning, especially the slow death contract it implied, but he learned to live with it, to live with the thought of imminent death waiting at the end of the line. It always was there, after all, what’s so different between having less than a week to live and a little over half a century?

Actually, never mind, that was a terrible example.

All in all, V learned to sympathize. He learned to trust Johnny, even since they sat near that poor excuse of a grave mourning a man that was only dead in the physical sense. If his conscience survived, was he even dead, then? Sure, it was a copy, but it was still _him_ , right?

“Are we heading back or would you rather philosophize your way out of existence?”

V scoffed, then pushed himself upwards, giving Johnny’s grave one last glance before turning to his hologram. His figure was leaning against the car, forever chasing the rush in a cigarette that was never going to give any.

“Thank god you’re already dead,” said V.

And that would have sounded harsh if they haven’t lived through what they have lived through. If they haven’t stood together not as two separate consciences fighting over one flesh suit but as a unit who each knew to respect the other’s boundaries. That, alone, allowed for that sentence to be humorous, funny, a joke.

And Johnny laughed, and then flipped him off.

V made for the car – Johnny’s – and watched it open for him to settle behind the wheel. He was wearing Johnny’s aviators and Johnny’s jacket over Johnny’s shirt and packing Johnny’s gun around the belt. What part of him was still him anyway? He forgot the moment he agreed on opening himself up, to try and understand the guy. And he did. And maybe that was his first and last mistake.

Maybe he had already lost the battle over his own skin. Maybe he had already reached a point of self-deterioration where he was making himself prepared to be occupied, like a throne, built and ready for Johnny to settle in. All to Johnny’s comfort. V might as well be gone.

He tilted his head vaguely to the side to catch Johnny watching him with his signature _Are you fucking kidding me_ stare. Even behind his aviators, V had learned to read him like an open book. Or maybe because he _was_ an open book, with his mind juxtaposed into his. V could read his thoughts without even sparing him a glance. That skill, unfortunately, went both ways.

“What?” V grunted, “Can’t a man even _think_ nowadays?”

“Think about how your body is like a throne for me to sit on?” scoffed Johnny, “That’s a whole new level of kinky, and trust me, I’ve seen enough _kinky_ in my time.”

V let out a breathy laugh and focused his stare back on the road. He started the engine and the car bolted down the highway. The sky was dark, no stars in sight, only a thick fog of city pollution. A soft rock’n’roll tune blasted on the radio and he let it play.

“You’re becoming more like me and I’m becoming more like you,” Johnny continued, “There’s no winner, no loser. It’s just us.”

“Says the guy who hates losing.”

“Says who, _you_?” he snapped, “I’m riding your ass the whole time and I can tell better than anybody how fucking hard you get when you finish on top. You’re just as much of a self-centered attention-seeking bitch as I am.”

V let out a sigh.

“I called you that, like, _once_. You’ll never let it go, huh?”

“No,” said Johnny, “‘cause it’s spot-on and I hate that you know me best.”

“You love it,” said V, giving him a side grin, “You love _me_.”

“Great, now you’re getting sappy. Do us both a favor and just drive.”

Then Johnny disappeared from the passenger seat. He has been doing that a lot lately, whenever their conversations turned around the nature of their relationship, he would up and leave. V considered Johnny a friend, perhaps even more, and he wouldn’t have chased any hope down that lane if the other didn’t see him under the same light. But that was where things got complicated.

Johnny’s feelings, _god_ , they were a fucking mess.

One day he wanted him, the other he didn’t. He never said it out loud, never expressed it, never thought of it. His feelings spoke for themselves. One day, V would have sex with about anybody and Johnny would be totally cool with it. The next day, he would give the cute bartender his number and Johnny would lose his shit, going on a long-scale rant about how they _don’t have time for this type of bullshit_ and _just jerk yourself off and move the fuck on_.

He wouldn’t lie, no matter how much he fought himself so as not to actively think about it for fear of Johnny picking up on the thread of confusion, guilt, and desperation, it still _hurt_. So V learned to repress his feelings in a part of himself even he had seldom access to. No matter how you looked at it, Johnny was right to be unsure. Theirs wasn’t exactly a marriage-worthy situation. Say they talked feelings, then what? Fuck each other and sweet talk each other into death? From the outside, they’ll just look like another fucked up NC nutcase with unhealthy narcissistic tendencies.

Theirs was a lost case before it even began.

Then came the day Johnny asked to borrow his body to go on a date with Rogue, and V was all in, what with wanting the best for Johnny and all. But then instead of waking up naked in the same bed as the hot lady-legend, V woke up at the edge of a bridge, half-wasted, halt-leaned against the railing, eyes on the lake that forked through Night City and the light of sunrise killed his eyes and triggered his headache.

“You’re up,” said Johnny.

V turned his head to catch his figure materializing by his side, perched upon the railing, gazing at the sunrise.

“You’re not with Rogue,” he noticed, “What happened?”

“Stuff,” said Johnny after a while, “Nice spot, isn’t it?”

He was talking about the sunrise and V had to agree. Intense headache aside, the view was phenomenal. The best of Night City. The sky turned pale blue when the rays of sunshine came peeking behind the horizon. V felt himself hold his breath for no apparent reason. And it wasn’t because of the view sweetening his _sappy side -_ Johnny’s word for relentless romantic - it was because he was sensing something, feeling something, strong, powerful, real, and it wasn’t his, it wasn’t him. It was Johnny.

It was Johnny choking on an overwhelming amount of _hope_ and _ache_ and _need_. For what? He couldn’t tell, but Johnny was already sparing him the questioning.

“Found a way to get back my body.”

V’s eyes snapped at him in a second.

“Wait, what?”

“Rogue,” he said, still looking ahead of him, “She said she’ll help us find it. Once the biochip’s out, neither of us needs to go.”

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Johnny?” spat V, “We just paid your body a visit two days ago. It’s gone. A pile of bones and dirt and whatnot –”

“It’s not mine,” said Johnny, finally looking at him, “The guy’s a liar. And we believed him. Rogue didn’t say anything then, thought it was better that way, better for me to let go, for you to move on. Then last night, shit happened and she said she couldn’t take it. The pain, the guilt. So she told me everything.”

V stood there, speechless. Johnny disappeared from atop the railing to reappear in front of him, hands in his pockets. For once, he wasn’t wearing his aviators. For once, he was looking at him, directly, and his feelings, _god_ , they were spilling everywhere, and V couldn’t begin to pick them out one at a time. Each as tremendously intense as the other. Each as heavy, as strong, as real. How can someone, anyone, feel all of this, with its strength and magnitude, and not break down and cry? How can Johnny look at him with those eyes, so straight-forward, so calm, when what he was feeling could tear a hole through a million bodies, V’s included.

“You want me to help you find it,” V mouthed, with difficulty, Johnny’s intention.

“This is it, V,” he said, “The last thing I’ll ever ask of you.”

Among the powerful wave of hope that filled V inwardly, one feeling stuck out like a sore thumb. The way Johnny looked at him, the intense stare, the faint trembling of his lip, the twitch of his eyebrows. Johnny was hoping, openly, shamelessly, to touch him, and he was taking away that hope the second it exposed itself.

Again, he was battling his own urges and V hated when he did that.

“If I get you your body,” said V, swallowing a lump in his throat, “You’re not gonna bail out on me, are you?”

“You think so low of me, V,” said Johnny, “I’d never do that.”

“How do I know you wouldn’t?”

“Want us to pinky promise on it or something?” scoffed Johnny, “Fuck, just trust me, V. I thought we were over this.”

“We weren’t over the part where you get your body back. What if you just ditch me?”

“So you what? Lock me up in that head of yours like a pretty ornament for you to play with? Fuck you. I’m not _yours_. You don’t get to decide this.”

That’s not what V said, not even close, and the fact that Johnny single-handedly went down that string of thoughts pierced through him like a sharp blade. Johnny must have noticed the implication this had on their entire relationship the second the words left his mouth and he cursed, aloud, tried to flicker away from sight, but V wouldn’t let him.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking of me?” he said, voice cracking slightly, “That I’m like, what, your captor? Some psycho who’s keeping you in my own head for my own sick pleasures? Think this is it? That I’d give up freedom of thought and my own _fucking body_ just to get a glimpse into your pathetic sorry-ass backstory? Think you’re _that_ special? Well, fuck you, Johnny. _Fuck_ _you_.”

Johnny’s mouth dropped open and he raised his head up to the sky in desperation.

“Jesus fucking Christ."

“And you know what? Fine, I’ll do it,” said V right after, “I’ll help you find that body of yours. Then you’ll get the fuck out of my life, you self-centered piece of shit.”

Johnny was about to say something but V didn’t want to hear it. He turned around and walked away, and even the pleasure of _walking away_ was taken from him. No matter where he went, however far he ran, however fast, Johnny was always going to be there, stomping all over his feelings.

And V was about done with it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love the attention this fic is getting, especially since I've written it on a whim. My feelings for Johnny/V are too strong for words. The only way to let it out is through writing.
> 
> Enjoy

By the time V came to his senses, he was in front of Judy’s apartment building. He didn’t know how he got there. He was so taken by furious anger he must have blasted loud music and driven at high speed just to suppress his thoughts – and Johnny’s in the process.

V might have not planned for it, but he knew why he was here. Judy was his closest friend, beside Panam, except Panam might have hinted for more once or twice. Not that V would have minded. Panam was great, just maybe not now. The last thing he wanted was to drag someone else into his unresolved mess of feelings when he, himself, hasn’t fully faced them just yet.

He abandoned the string of thought as soon as it surfaced. He didn’t want Johnny to pick up on them, or on anything that was concerning him. The man had been silent for the most part, and V would rather keep it that way.

The door to Judy’s apartment opened upon approach. V was still not entirely used to the idea of Judy inviting him in to use her place however he liked. She really trusted him, and the feeling was mutual. Reason why V was here in the first place.

“Judy?” he announced the second he stepped in. Turning into the living room, he caught Judy’s side figure leaned against the window, cigarette in hand, grinning widely.

“Hey there, stranger. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

V entered the middle of the room, his lips already tugging into a smile when Judy discarded her half-burnt cigarette to pull him into a tight embrace. V responded with as much enthusiasm, and he followed along when she pulled him down to sit on the couch.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” she said, then crouched to unpack two beer bottles from under the table, handing V one.

“Missed you too,” he said, taking a quick sip, “You’ve been all over the country, I bet we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, that we do,” she winked, and V understood the implication.

“Met someone new?”

“Two, actually,” Judy began, settling back in her seat with a proud grin, “One in San Francisco, a sweet girl for whom I worked for a couple of months during my stay. The other doesn’t live too far from here. I just met her a couple of days ago and, well, I’m head over heels already. Don’t know where to start. I think she likes me, too. I hope, at least. She’s a nomad. They’re a bit difficult to get to know. The fact that I’m NC through and through doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Yeah, I see it,” V nodded, “Nomads aren’t exactly city friendly. She with which family?”

“Oh, the Aldecaldos, if I remember well.”

“Hold on a second.” V put his beer down on the table, “What’s this girl’s name?”

“Panam,” said Judy, “Why, you know her?”

V’s face froze for a second, then a laugh erupted in the open. Except it was not his. It was Johnny’s. The man had materialized by the window side, cigarette in hand, pretending to smoke.

“Looks like you’re a little too late to _that_ party, partner.”

V threw him a glare, then chose to ignore him.

“I know Panam,” he answered, “She’s a good friend. Gave me a hand a couple of times and I’ve been doing the same whenever she had a job she needed help with.”

“Really? That’s crazy!” said Judy, “Then, we gotta meet up all three of us at some point. What do you say?”

V nodded with a smile. “Sure, I’m in.”

“Pathetic,” said Johnny. “Why don’t you just admit to her that you wanted to make a move on Panam if it weren’t for your being an insecure prick.”

“Fuck off, Johnny,” said V out loud.

“He’s here, huh?” asked Judy, curious eyes peering at V from the side of her seat. V looked back at her with a hint of embarrassment, then nodded.

“That’s so freaky,” she laughed, then stood up, “I’ll go grab us some grub from the store across. Want anything specific?”

“Uh, whatever you’re having.”

“Got it.”

And just like that, V was left alone. Or as alone as he could be.

Johnny was just teasing him. That was what this was about. He was trying to get on his nerves to make whatever was going on between them less awkward. Plus, why would he have to tell Judy a thing? It wasn’t like there was anything between him and Panam to begin with. He was just surprised that Panam swung that way, is all. If anything, the two would make a great couple. They were a perfect match. He could tell.

“You’re doing it again,” interrupted Johnny, now sitting at the table, inches away from his face, “Repressing your feelings. We both know you liked that chick.”

“Look who’s talking,” scoffed V, lying back in his seat to put in some distance between them. “Johnny Silverhand, the king of emotional repression.”

“Now you’re just being a dick on purpose,” said Johnny, “What’s crawled up your ass?”

“List’s long, where do I start?”

He didn’t look at Johnny, didn’t want to. If they were becoming the same, then the sight of him should be the equivalent of looking into a mirror by now, but V knew better than anyone that was not the case. It was infuriatingly distracting. The spread legs, the messy hair, the shining silver arm, the nonchalant attitude. That body fit into a tank top and those legs squeezed into a pair of tight skinny jeans that had his crotch –

“Wouldn’t go there if I were you,” interrupted Johnny with a smirk, and V cursed his existence.

Fuck. How much of his thoughts had he let out?

“Starting the _I’m a prick who can’t admit my feelings_ bit.”

“Fuck you,” said V, reaching through Johnny’s holographic leg to snatch his beer and drink it empty. “The hell you want anyway? I’m here to see Judy. Can’t you, like, crawl back to your pit for two solid hours and let a man enjoy a bit of peace?”

“Will do that if you agree to ring up Rogue after this,” said Johnny, “She might have a lead on the location of my body.”

“In a rush to get the fuck out?” said V, “Feeling’s mutual.”

Johnny looked at him like he had just spit on his face but didn’t say anything. The apartment door opened and Judy walked in shortly after, hands full with all sorts of take-out packages.

“Hey, V, mind giving me a hand? I think I over-bought. ‘m starving.”

“Sure, coming.”

Before V could get up on his feet, Johnny came obstructing his way.

“Ring her up,” he said, and then flickered out of sight.

Johnny kept his side of the bargain. Two hours of freedom later, V had to start considering his own. He parted ways with Judy at the building door, promised to visit as soon as she set up the meeting with Panam, hugged her goodbye, then returned to the quiet of his car to conduct the promised call.

“V.”

“Rogue.”

“I know why you’re calling,” said the woman right away, “Meet me at the Afterlife at midnight. I have a lead.”

“Be there.”

Two hours until midnight. V decided to kill them at the Afterlife. Claire kept him company for the most of it, chatting up about their next car tournament, until the bar got fuller and she had to leave him for a line of customers.

V settled in his corner at the counter and drank a Jackie Welles to his old friend’s honor. At times like these, he was reminded by how terribly lonely life was without him. Before this mess, before everything, it was the two of them against the world. The best times in Night City, V had lived them in that man’s company and now, now he missed him beyond compare.

“Jackie Welles, huh. He must have been special.”

V glanced to his side. Johnny was standing with his back to the bar counter, propping himself up on his elbows while gazing dully over the club.

“He was my best friend.”

“I know,” said Johnny, “Saw bits and pieces of him in your memories. Seemed like a nice guy.”

His tone was dripping with sarcasm and V was having none of it.

“What’re you getting at?”

“In Night City, _nice_ doesn’t exactly keep you alive.”

“You saying he got what he deserved?” shouted V, attracting a few curious eyes on him, “Should I remind you that he died because he carried the chip in him first? He saved _you_ from being completely destroyed, when he could’ve just ditched you like a piece of junk right then and there.”

“He got shot,” said Johnny. “Chip’s not why he died.”

“Is that what helps you sleep at night?”

“Look,” sighed Johnny, shifting to cross his arms, “I’m not here to fight. You keep snapping at me like a teenage girl and I’ll leave you on your lonesome.”

“I don’t need your pitiful company. Feel free to fuck off.”

“Fuck’s gotten into you?” spat Johnny, turning to face him with a glare, “Thought we were good. That we were finally on the same page. What happened? Why’re you suddenly out to bite my neck at every chance you get?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Johnny,” scoffed V while lifting up his glass, “Maybe it has to do with your _can’t wait to get this guy off my back_ sorta vibe you’ve been giving off recently.”

“Fuck, V, that not what I – “

“Save it,” cut V shortly, eyes back on Claire who was returning his way. “I don’t wanna hear you talk anymore.”

He chugged his shot and ordered another, to which Claire was happy to oblige. The two continued their little chatter and Johnny was ignored for the entirety of it. He eventually gave up and disappeared.

Exactly five minutes past midnight, Rogue made an appearance. She reserved a corner in the back of the club for them to talk in private, and V liked how she got to the point the second they occupied their seats.

“You ever infiltrated the Arasaka Tower?”

“In fact, I have,” said V, “That where the body is?”

“Underground floor. Laboratory. Frozen chamber,” said Rogue, pulling a chip out of her pocket, “The map’s in here. Follow it to get in.”

“A secret route?” V asked, then fit the chip into the slot behind his ear to start feeding himself the information. “Oh, fuck, it’s heavily guarded. Worse than last time.”

“They reinforced their security system since the last break-in,” she explained, “You’ll need to go solo if you want a chance. And since they’ve seen your face before, think of getting a makeover.”

“A makeover?”

“I call white hair,” said Johnny, “You know, Kerry style? It’ll look good on you.”

“Nobody asked your opinion, Johnny.”

Rogue laughed across from him.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”, she said, “Let me guess, he suggested white hair?”

V looked impressed. “How’d you know?”

“No shit, smartass,” said Johnny, “It’s _Rogue_.”

“We go way back, Johnny and I,” said Rogue, “He’s been talking about dying his hair white for as long as I can remember, but never got around doing it. When he finally wanted to, Kerry beat him to it. It was kind of like a war of originality between those two, and Johnny lost it every time.”

“Sore loser, much.”

“Watch it,” muttered Johnny.

“Fine, I’ll go white. Old man style. What else?”

“I would consider adding some piercings, tattoos, changing your eye shape and eye color.”

“Cock piercing,” said Johnny, materializing behind Rogue. “Oh wait, you don’t have one. Mini-cock piercing?”

“Go fuck yourself, Johnny, seriously.”

“He’s teasing you, isn’t he?”

V rolled his eyes.

“If you call being a prick teasing.”

Then V removed the chip and stood up.

“Thanks, Rogue. I think I got all I need. I should put a plan together before barging in.”

“Wouldn’t have said it better,” said Rogue, “And don’t mention it. I’m doing this for a selfish reason, too. After our little meeting last time, I realized Johnny and I have changed a lot over the years. The romance might’ve died, but we’re still good friends. And I want him back as much as you do.”

V was taken aback by that final statement.

“You misunderstood something, I don’t – “

“It’s fine, V,” she interrupted with a kind smile, too kind for someone like Rogue to expose to about anyone. “You care about him more than you like to admit. And Johnny cares about you, too. I know he’s going to kill me for saying this but, when we talked, he mentioned feeling guilty for taking up space in your head, for doing this to you, you know, _killing_ you.”

V’s lips parted slightly but no words came out. Behind Rogue, Johnny’s gaze fell down, arms crossed. He wasn’t saying anything, either.

“He’s not killing me,” said V, eyes on Johnny while he talked, “This is _my_ mess because _I_ put myself into it. Johnny’s just the baggage that came along. And I don’t blame him for trying to survive. I would’ve done the exact same.”

Johnny’s glance snapped up and their eyes met. For the flash of a second, V felt what he felt, something akin to _fondness_ and _care._ Something he wanted to name but knew he couldn’t, not without exposing himself and making this, whatever it was between them, even more unbearable.

Then the feeling disappeared and Johnny followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous today, so have two chapters at once!

V parked his vehicle miles away from Night City just to lie down on the car’s hood and live the illusion of stargazing. Except there were no stars, and it was Johnny’s ass he was gazing at.

Well, to his defense, V was planning on going through this fake stargazing business on his own, it was not _his_ problem that Johnny decided to show up and bend over the half-wall that gave onto NC’s royal dumpster.

They didn’t say a word to each other ever since they left the Afterlife. Rogue had warned him against barging into the Arasaka Tower without a solid plan, and advised him to take as long as he needed to chisel out the perfect route. V agreed. The last thing he wanted was a part two of his failure of a first time.

If that one had cost him a dear friend, he didn’t want to begin imagining who it would be this time. And there wasn’t a pile to choose from. It was either him or Johnny. And V would rather give himself up than –

“Ugh, just stop it with the self-sacrificing BS,” groaned Johnny, straightening his back for a stretch. “If the plan’s not perfect, we’re not going in. End of story. Last thing I want is a pile of bodies on my first walk out of Arasaka, with you on top.”

V buried his hands behind his head and slightly curved his neck so as to take in Johnny’s entire figure. Even in the dark, wearing all black, he was a sight for sore eyes. V didn’t follow that thread of thinking, and Johnny’s twitching eyebrow was his cue.

“Thought you said I liked being on top,” said V smugly, “Pun intended.”

“Ha-ha, dirty joke, how original.”

Johnny leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. There was something about his posture that struck V as off. He seemed stiff, uncomfortable, shy.

“Try constipated,” blurted out the other, “’cause I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for days. What’s with you and being horny recently? Go get laid or somethin’.”

“And pass up the opportunity to get on your nerves? Nah.”

“So you’d rather fantasize about dude’s holographic ass than get down and dirty with sexy Nomad chick? Man, are you a lost case.”

“Sexy Nomad chick’s got a name,” said V, “And Panam’s just a friend. Think I made that clear already.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With a roll of his eyes, Johnny turned to lean back on the half-wall, regaining his earlier posture with his ass hanging in the air. V wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he just stopped caring. It pissed V off, this attitude of his, and Johnny knew it did, and if they were about to plan a solo infiltration mission together and get out of it alive, they had to lay all of their dirt on the table and sort it out.

V pushed himself up in a sitting position, one arm over his folded leg, the other pressed to the car hood with the other leg dangling down the front fender. He could already hear a groan of annoyance breaking out into the night air. Johnny knew what was coming.

“What’re you so afraid of?” said V, straight to the point, “You’re not even real. Not now, at least. It’s not gonna change anything if –"

“If _what_?” snapped Johnny, turning at him with a glare, “If we confessed our little feelings and fucked each other’s brains out? Oh wait, you’ll need two bodies for that. Which we _don’t_ have.”

“Is that the problem?” asked V, voice calm, “You’re just worried it might not work out because you don’t have your body yet?”

“ _Work out_ ,” Johnny mocked, standing up to run a hand through his messy hair. V could feel him tense up, nervous. “Listen to yourself talk, for fuck’s sake. You sound like you know everything about _feelings_ when you don’t know shit. All you think about is _you_. Just want to let it out in the open. Feel a lil’ bit better about your pathetic self, is that it? Well, I’ve got news for you, V. It’s not about you. Never was.”

“And it’s about _you_?”

“It’s not about me, either!” yelled Johnny at his face, having suddenly teleported right in front of him, each hand slamming on the car hood on each side of V, which had him slightly stiffen in his stance. “Don't you get it? It’s not about _us_. Nothing is. It’s about the world. How fucked up it is. How fucked up it got us. Think it’s normal that you get to talk to your imaginary friend and get a lil’ hard from staring at his ass? Tell that to anyone and you’ll end up in a mental ward, avoided at every corner like the pest. Freaks is what they made us to be. And look at us, we’re embracing it.”

V had plenty to say to that, but he knew Johnny wasn’t done, and it was rare to get him to talk openly like this. V wasn’t about to stop him. He wanted this. He wanted him to let it all out. So he settled back, instead, and watched Johnny’s angry face in front of him, and he let himself go. He let himself do what he had forbidden himself to do for a while. He let himself _feel_.

“Fuck – Stop it.”

“Why?” said V, “Why should I stop? ‘cause it makes you uncomfortable? Knowing how I feel? Well, welcome to the fucking world, Johnny. Everyone has feelings and they don’t get a say on them. _Grow up._ ”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Johnny under his breath, then pushed himself up to flicker out momentarily. V spotted him again at the top of the car’s roof, fingers fiddling with his aviators. His eyes looked tired, beaten, depressed. This wasn’t the Johnny V was used to. This was a man who was holding something back. Something deeper.

“Maybe I don’t,” said V, pulling out a cigarette out of his package. Johnny’s eyes snapped at it in an instant. He was hungry for a smoke. V let him have it. He burned the cigarette and brought it to his lips, but before he inhaled, he locked eyes with Johnny and said: “Just because I know I like you _like that_ doesn’t mean I know what to do with it.”

Then he sucked the toxicity out of the cigarette and enjoyed the look of pure bliss on Johnny’s face. They didn’t talk for the entirety of the smoke break. V kept feeding himself the lung-collapsing nicotine and Johnny sat there basking in the aftermath. Then the blood rush was followed by a temporary high and Johnny came spilling out the truth.

“It’s all in your head,” he said, leaning flat against the car roof. V couldn’t see his face from where he was sitting. “Those _feelings_ you keep talking about. All up there. Nothing’s real.”

“How can you –"

“Shut the fuck up and listen,” cut Johnny, his voice echoing in the void, echoing in V’s head. “When you like someone, you get to know them. Bit by bit. Slowly. You learn about them, about their little quirks and flaws and what makes them _them._ By the time you reach the point of knowing them inside out, you’re already invested. You know what you want. Nothing they’ll ever do can change it, nothing can fuck it up. And if after all of this, it still somehow doesn’t work, well, you let go. It’s your choice. You can disentangle whenever. Because you _can_.”

Johnny pushed himself up and his eyes fell down on V. There was something swimming in there, frustration and anger and guilt. Johnny has been keeping this in for longer than he thought.

“Now when you _implant_ someone into somebody’s head, that’s a different story,” he continued, gesturing with his index to his temple. “A parasite, that’s what I am to you. I eat you inside out and not in the sexual, kinky way you’ve been daydreaming about. I am literally erasing you. Taking up space. Bit by bit. Slowly. Overriding you. And those feelings you got? That’s pure compliance. A sort of fucked up defense mechanism –”

“If you’re trying to say this is some twisted case of Stockholm Syndrome, kindly go fuck yourself, Johnny.”

“Call it whatever, I don’t care,” insisted Johnny, “It’s not gonna change the fact that it’s true.”

V fell silent after that. Johnny didn’t add a word. He had nothing to say anymore, that much V was sure of. That was it, everything he had been keeping inside. It’s all laid out in the open, at last.

V slipped down the car hood onto solid ground and walked to the wall that gave onto the polluted lake separating them from Night City. The fog that floated around wasn’t just light pollution anymore. It was toxic waste, the dangerous kind. Yet people lived in NC like it was nothing. Like it was just another minor inconvenience they needed to get adjusted to. Talk about ironic representation of his and Johnny’s relationship. V was Night City, and Johnny wanted him to believe he was the toxic waste that eats him alive.

“Finally got the picture,” said Johnny proudly in the back, “Better late than never.”

V pushed up his aviators and put another cigarette to his mouth.

“I’d rather fuck the shit out of that toxic waste, if you ask me.”

There came no answer. V thought Johnny had left. When he looked back, he found him spread over the car hood, legs parted, hands behind his head, assuming a similar position to the one V was settled in before.

“I think I get the ass fascination,” he said, “Angle does it justice.”

V puffed out a line of smoke along with a tired laugh. That was as far as he could go today, but that did not mean it was the end of it. V would try again tomorrow. He would try after tomorrow, and every day after that.

However long it would take to drill his feelings into Johnny’s head. V was sure, now, more than ever, that he was willing to play the waiting game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily updates because I got so inspired I wrote several chapters at once. 
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos. They truly make my day.
> 
> Enjoy

It took the entirety of the next day for V to come up with a plan to infiltrate the Arasaka Tower two-point-o. Johnny hated to see his pathetic ass forget to get his basic human needs met. So nine hours later, he came towering over the table in the living room V was sat at. V raised his head at him briefly, then went back to work.

“Take a break,” said Johnny, “Get in the shower. Punch a snack out or two. You’re useless if you’re already a corpse _now_.”

V chuckled. Johnny braced himself for a snarky remark, but what came out was worse.

“Lil’ Johnny cares about my health?” he said, “How adorable.”

If this was the sort of game V was going to play, then Johnny could work with it.

He shrugged, said, “Of course I do”, and watched V raise his head permanently towards him like he had just made a marriage proposal.

“What?” scoffed Johnny before the other could say a thing, then teleported back to spread his legs on the couch across, “’S no big news. I do care for your well-being. Not just because my survival depends on it, but because we’re –”

“Chooms, yeah, I got it,” said V, “It just sounds different, y’know, after our _talk_.”

“Ugh, not again,” groaned Johnny, sending his head back in annoyance, “I’d rather shoot myself across the Blackwall and say hi to Alt on the way out than go over this for the thousandth time. _Give it up._ ”

“Won’t do,” said V, “You know it’s mutual. So stop running away from it.”

Johnny placed his metal palm against his face and let out a bored groan. Something itched behind his ear. When he looked up, he saw V pulling out the chip he had been working on to slip into his wallet for safe-keeping, then leaned into his seat like it was just another random discussion they were having.

“Plan’s ready?” he asked, “When are we barging in?”

“At three in the morning. Six hours from now. I’ll play late night businessman returning from overseas after a long flight delay. Jackie’s touch. He’d be proud.”

“I bet,” said Johnny, “Need to get some shut eye, then.”

“Nah. Too worked up for that.”

They fell quiet. V turned on the TV, popped his legs on top of the couch and got himself all comfortable. Johnny let his eyes wander for a second.

His overall look had changed overnight. His hair was snow white with an undercut, eyes glowing red, fingernails painted black, and wore so many piercing on his face they would send every metal detector in the vicinity beeping into defection. That was the idea behind it, to distract the guards from his gun.

Though, not to lie, the new look did suit him well. At the accidental thought, Johnny snapped out of it to find V grinning his way.

“So you _do_ think I’m hot.”

“Not even close to what I was thinking.”

“Well, good, hot, all a bunch of synonyms.”

“Yeah, right,” Johnny smirked. “Good luck telling your friends you’re feeling _hot_ when they’re asking how you’re doing. Judy’ll wipe your deets clean out of her contact list.”

V laughed.

“Yeah, she would.”

Then he went back to focusing on the news channel. V was too absorbed, too busy with his eyes glued on TV to notice anything else, so Johnny let himself think his heart out.

He could feel it now stronger than ever, V’s strong interest in him, his massive jumble of emotions, and _god fucking hell_ , those were a _lot_. V was an emotional overflow squeezed into a compressed human-sized body. Boop the wrong side and it all comes flooding out. Their last _talk_ was a good example. Johnny came out of that conversation with nothing other than V’s round-shaped ass and his filthy desire to fuck him.

Well, look at that, Johnny would even do something about it. Just maybe not in this lifetime.

Why? Because it’s messy. And Johnny had his fair share of messy. V was too important, hell, more important to him than everyone else he had met in his life, and they have barely known each a little over a week. Even still, V mattered to him, and the last thing Johnny wanted was to ruin _this_ , whatever it was between them.

Sad truth, he already _was_ ruining it. It’s a lose-lose situation, either way. A grand example of his fucking life.

When Johnny came about, it was to his crotch itching. When he looked up, it was to V’s eyes glued to a screen now playing some sort of porno teaser, not even the full thing, _pathetic_.

“Will you do us both a favor and jerk the fuck off?”

“It’s not exactly easy with you around twenty-four-seven.”

“Thought you got a kick out of staring at my ass.”

V laughed, his throat slightly sore, but he didn’t look his way. And it pissed Johnny off.

He flickered out of existence and reappeared by the TV side. V’s eyes sparked open and the crimson glimmer of his orbs sent a chill down Johnny’s spine.

“Fucking desperate, aren’t you?”

He didn’t know why he said that, but there it was, already out in the open, already shooting down V’s crotch like a revelation, making him achingly hard and instantly wet. And fuck, abort mission, this was _dangerous_.

“Don’t,” said V, and his voice was goddamn desperate, “Stay. I want you to watch me.”

Johnny froze in his stance, said nothing, and just _watched_. He watched V lift up his hips to unzip his pants and pull them down to his thighs, watched him lick his fingers wet and slide them under his boxers, watched his awful-hungry gaze fall on him, size him up, like he would’ve jumped him, right then and there, like he would’ve eaten him up alive, were Johnny real, were he not just a figment of his imagination, were he a person instead of a relic.

Then Johnny stopped watching and started feeling.

 _And_ _fuck,_ _it felt good._

“Right?” said V, voice slightly slurred, eyes half-hooded and lips tugging into a provocative grin. “That’s all you, Johnny.”

That must’ve been the final blow that sent Johnny’s cock throbbing under his pants. He wanted to touch himself so desperately, and he tried, many times before, but it was just not the same. Reason? He was not real. Torture, is what this was. Him standing there watching, feeling, and begging for a release he could never have, could only feel second-hand.

“Still better than nothing,” said V, and Johnny knew he was trying to lick his wounds, trying to make him feel better, “Once you get your body back –"

“I’ll fuck you raw,” finished Johnny, suddenly appearing on top of him, staring V down like a hungry predator.

And the slip was more intentional than Johnny liked to admit, and it sent V’s head back slamming against the headboard, body twitching in ecstasy while he fucked himself into his own fingers. He was wet, hard, ready, and the simple thought of actually _being_ there, of shoving his cock deep inside him and watching him scream out his name for the entire megabuilding to hear while he rides him through his orgasm –

“Fuck, Johnny!”

And V did moan in the end, he did scream his name out loud, he did orgasm like he’d never done before. All of it, without Johnny being there, in the physical form, and the thought was fucking bittersweet.

“What a horny bitch,” he mouthed instead, looking down at V from above while he descended from a high they mutually shared. “Just how long have you been pent up for?”

“Since I’ve seen your pretty lil’ face and thought of how good it’ll look all fucked out under me,” said V, smirking.

“After all this, you still want to fuck _me_?”

“ _Definitely_ ,” said V, “Even got the perfect strap-on for the occasion.”

Johnny’s cock might have twitched in interest, but he rolled his eyes, and stood up.

“Whatever. Let’s get me back inside my body first, then we’ll talk.”

“Yeah,” said V in a tired yawn, “Might crawl in bed, after all. This did me good. Thanks.”

Johnny watched him slip under the shower, then fall face first into his bed. There was a lot to think about, a lot to question, a lot to contemplate, but now was not the time.

Now, V needed his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but necessary for the build up of what's coming next.
> 
> Enjoy

V woke up one hour before Arasaka raiding time. Or maybe he got woken up by Johnny, he wasn’t so sure. All he remembered was his name being whispered softly. It felt good, that kind of connection, the nearness –

“Get the fuck up, we don’t have all night.”

Never mind, _that_ was definitely Johnny.

V went under the cold shower to shake himself awake, glanced briefly at his reflection to sort out the mess that was his hair, then fitted into a clean-cut, black business suit to which Johnny shrugged a _not bad._ He shoved his actual clothes into a suitcase, then put away all other weaponry except for Johnny’s gun, which he shoved down the front of his belt, laughing at Johnny’s whispered _disgraceful_ , then headed out.

“You have reached your destination,” announced the vehicle’s voice, “Thank you for riding with Delamain.”

V shifted excitedly in his seat.

“Ready? Let’s get this show started."

“I swear to fucking god, V. You get that body back and I’ll fuck you until the end of times.”

“You, sir, have just gotten yourself a deal.”

The car door slammed shut behind him, and V marched out with one hand around the collar, straightening it, the other holding his suitcase, heading proudly past the security gate. He got side glances, looks, but none of the guards recognized him. He made a stop at the reception and explained his flight’s delay. He was accompanied to the elevator and given his room number.

“Have a wonderful stay, sir.”

“I sure fucking will.”

But the lady didn’t catch his words with the doors of the elevator already closing up on him. The ride upstairs was quiet, smooth. Everything was going as planned.

“For now,” said Johnny. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“Chill, I got this.”

With a loud ping, the elevator reached the right floor. The doors parted open, and V entered his booked suite. He let out a sigh of relief and began undressing himself. Johnny chose this exact moment to reveal himself on top of the queen-sized bed, spread all over, propped on both elbows while staring down his way.

“That’s not what I had in mind when you said let’s get this show started.”

V smirked. “Got any complaints?”

“None.”

He stripped down to his boxers and started unpacking his suitcase. At the corner of his eye, he caught Johnny moving towards him.

“How much time we got?”

“About an hour,” said V, popping his head out of the shirt’s collar, “’til the cleaning personnel shows up and I sweep up their all-access chip.”

“What makes you think their all-access chip is all-access?” said Johnny, staring down at him, “What if you go through all the trouble and the laboratory door refuses to open? Or you find the frozen chamber sealed? Said it yourself. Security’s doubled. They’ll bust your ass within minutes. Then it’s neither of us walking out of here with a body.”

“Woah, what’s going on?” said V, “You’re overthinking, Johnny. It’s not like you.”

One leg fitted into his black pants, V stopped to watch the man turn around and glitch to the other end of the suite. The wall-sized windows gave onto the entirety of Night City and the view was gorgeous, but neither of them was in the mood for sightseeing.

“I don’t know,” he said in a sigh, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

V didn’t need to be told. He could feel it in his guts. They raided a dozen other dangerous zones before, but never had he felt Johnny’s discomfort reach a stress-rising level. The man was that short from a full-on panic attack.

V zipped up his pants and joined him by the window side.

“There’s always a plan B,” he said, leaning on his side.

“What’s plan B?”

“You figure it out when plan A doesn’t work.”

“That’s not a plan, that’s a death sentence.”

V shrugged. “It always worked.”

Johnny removed his aviators to rub between his eyes, beaten.

“God, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“You’re worried, I get it,” said V, sounding compassionate if anything, “You’re _this_ close to getting your body back. To getting back to being _you_. Not just the back seat passenger to someone else’s skin. You’re excited, too. That’s normal.”

Johnny sighed and put his sunglasses back on.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a while, “Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about holding a gun in my hand again. Busting someone’s head with it. Smoking, eating, fucking. Can hardly wait.”

“That’s the spirit,” said V, “Now keep it in your pants ‘cause I’m starting to feel your hard-on.”

Johhny turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.

“That’s just you, dickhead.”

“Come on, don’t call a man out.”

The stressful knot in V’s stomach was relieved, and he and Johnny stood there watching Night City’s doom unravel from yet another new angle.

“Dumpster town,” said Johnny, “Can’t believe the day had come for me to say I am looking forward to the smell of rot, piss, and Jig-Jig street cum. What a time to be alive.”

“Look over there. Can even see the pedestrian crossing lights all the way from up here,” said V, “It’s your lucky day, Johnny. Even light pollution bends down to supreme toxic waste. That’s your new nickname, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

But Johnny was grinning, and V could tell just how his excitement had shot up through the roof since the start of their conversation. V could hardly begin to comprehend how it must have been like to be stripped out of your skin and put into somebody else’s conscience. Not fun, that for sure, but one thing V could tell, it felt amazing, fucking exhilarating, the thought of regaining said freedom.

V didn’t care how tonight ends up working out. Bottom line, he was getting Johnny’s body back. And nothing will stop him.

The clock hit four a.m. The elevator door opened and the cleaning lady walked in. V was locked up inside the bathroom, readying himself. He splashed his face with water and gave his reflection one last glance. He looked as ready as he could ever get.

“Let’s go.”

“Hey,” said Johnny at the door, “Be careful, kid.”

“Got it, old man.”

“Oh, ha-ha, funny. Go fuck yourself.”

“Later, Johnny, then you can do it yourself."

Johnny grunted and V came out of the bathroom grinning like a fool. The cleaning lady was making his bed. She smiled at him politely and returned to her work. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered to be asked to clean up a client’s room so early in the morning. Talk about fucked-up, privileged clientele.

“She looks done with life, like the rest of us,” said Johnny, “Go easy on her.”

“I’m as gentle as they come.”

The cleaning lady glanced at him confusedly, then, without a warning, V quickhacked into her system for a temporary shutdown. Before she could hit the ground, V caught her body and carefully placed it on the bed.

“Scan her.”

“I’m on it, Jesus.”

He scanned her system and located the chip, then, jacked into it and starting downloading the data.

“So far, so good,” said V.

“Don’t get too giddy,” said Johnny, “Is it even all-access?”

The download was complete. V ran a swift sweep through the information.

“Bingo.”

“Beginner’s luck.”

V laughed at that, then slipped right into the elevator.

“Whose side are you on again, Johnny?”

“My ass.”

“Yeah, how very mature of you.”

He punched the button to the underground level. Passed the scan. The elevator started going down.

“You know what else is mature?” asked Johnny.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“My ass.”

“That’s not even funny.”

“Neither are you, but we all gotta live with our failures, don't we?”

V laughed until his cheeks started hurting.

“God, I want to shut you up.”

“Get in line.”

“With my mouth.”

Johnny fell silent. V thought he might have overstepped, but then his voice came echoing in his head again.

“Get me my body back and I’ll French kiss you myself.”

“It’s a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For someone who doesn't enjoy writing action that much, I had a real blast with this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy

The underground level was heavily guarded. Three sets of patrols changed around every hour. At four a.m, the night shift left to make place for the early shift. Meaning V had exactly fifteen minutes to sneak past the few guards left, locate the laboratory, break in, and find the freezing chamber Rogue mentioned. And five minutes were already used up on his way down.

“Fuck, how am I gonna do all that in ten minutes? The place’s huge!”

“Does it look like you have another choice?" said Johnny, " _Move_ _._ ”

V sipped in a long breath, braced himself, and headed down the corridor. He scanned the area, breached the security system’s control to deactivate all cameras in the vicinity, and locked eyes on his first target.

The guard was standing at a door marked _Staff Only_. V wanted to put his bet on it leading to the laboratory. He waited until the guy looked the other way, then knocked him unconscious and dragged his body out of sight.

“Careful,” said Johnny the second V slipped past the door, “Another guard’s on the other side.”

And that might have been a little too late of a warning. V stood face to face with the guard, and in that fraction of a delay that took the other to raise his rifle, V was already behind him, head locking him to the floor.

But it was already too late. One second was all it took for the system to receive the alert. V cursed his luck and turned to run the other direction.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Calm down,” came Johnny’s harsh tone, “You can still do this. Rogue’s secret way out is the key. You just have to get in the frozen chamber, find the body, and get the fuck out.”

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.”

Two more guards were waiting for him at the other end of the laboratory. V had no other choice but to shoot them. One bullet each. They fell down cold, and V forged his way into the next area.

He entered a dark room. An office. The lights were dimmed, almost out. V rushed past the set of desks to stop at a large screen hanging on the wall across. His mouth dropped when he caught sight of the image on display.

“Fuck, is that –"

“My body,” finished Johnny, “Shit, they must’ve been conducting all sorts of fucked up experiments on it. It should be behind that door. Get it out, _now_.”

V didn’t need to be told twice. In the very far end of the area, he could hear footsteps of a dozen more guards storming on their way to him. He was running out of time.

He punched the door and ripped it open from its hinges. Stepping inside, his body registered a stark decrease in temperature. The chamber he entered was pitch black, with few, blue lights revealing the occupants of each bathtub-shaped tube the bodies were stored in. It took V one glance to recognize Johnny among the others, lying under a layer of frost. He was the same as always. Intact. Clean. Perfect.

“Jerk off to my face later,” said Johnny, “Get me out.”

V punched the glass isolating the body from the room temperature and watched it crack into pieces. He repeated the process until he cleared up enough space for the body to fit through. Then he moved to hold him by the armpits and heave him out into the open.

“Fucking finally,” said Johnny and V could feel his excitement skyrocket. “Look at that smug look. Still pulling it off after all these years.”

“Jerk off to your own face later,” bit back V with a half-grin, “Guards are close. We need to do this quick. What now?”

“Jack into my system,” said Johnny, “I’ll try to upload the relic back into my body. Might take a while.”

“How long are we talking?”

“I don’t know, V. Do I look like I do this day in day out?”

Then, before they could get anything started, the door to the office burst open and five armed guards stepped in.

“Shit!”

“We can't do shit if they're around," said Johnny, "Take care of them.”

“Fucking on it already!”

V launched himself out of the frozen chamber and shielded himself behind a set of desks. He reloaded his gun, sipped in a chunk of air, and waited for the exact moment to rise up.

Five heads. Five shots. Two hits out of three. The remaining few shot at him mercilessly. A bullet grazed his shoulder, and V returned straight back to hiding.

“Take it easy,” said Johnny, “All of this would be for nothing if you die now.”

“Think I don’t know that?!”

“Just saying,” said Johnny, voice somehow softer than usual. “I still owe you a tongue down your throat and a good timeless fuck. So don't go screwing this up now.”

And that was about all the encouragement V needed to launch himself back into battle. He slid between the desks, drifted from one hiding to another, and whenever he caught an opening, he took his shot. Until it was just him and the last guard standing. Panicked, the poor idiot turned around to start running in the other direction making for an easy shot. V nailed him straight in the head.

“I’d be clapping right about now if I had hands,” said Johnny.

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Back to raising your ass from the dead.”

Back inside the frozen chamber, V pulled out his integrated cable to jack into Johnny’s system. The upgrade automatically began.

“Shit, this is gonna take ages,” said V, noticing how slow the bar was filling, “Back-up's gonna bust our ass before then.”

“I’ll try and find a way to work things faster.”

And Johnny went silent for the next five minutes. V was positive that the updating did accelerate, but something was off. He could hardly feel Johnny anymore, and the longer it lasted, the more painful the feeling. It was like someone was trying to rip an organ straight out of his living body. By the time the update reached eighty per cent, V was coughing out blood.

“What the fuck’s happening?”

It was Johnny. The sound of his voice comforted V momentarily, then his coughing fit took a toll on him once more, and soon he was spilling his guts out onto the chamber’s floor.

“I don’t know, I –" he coughed louder to clear his throat, “I feel weird. Like the biochip’s trying to fight back. It fucking hurts.”

“Hang in there,” said Johnny, “Update’s almost complete. Just – just hang in there, V. Just concentrate on my voice, all right? Just keep listening to …”

V tried. He tried to focus on Johnny’s voice. He tried to keep himself conscious. But the pain was excruciating, painful, drilling into him with more and more power, until his eyelids grew heavy and his heartbeats fell slow, until Johnny’s voice became more and more distant.

“V? V, stay the fuck with me!”

 _I am right here_ , he wanted to say.

But nothing came out. And he fell into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking my sweet time with this fanfic and I'm enjoying writing it so much. I'm almost done with it and still feel like writing more. So I decided to add a part 2 to the series once this one comes to an end. 
> 
> Enjoy

Chunk of his memories were omitted. The moments after he passed out, V remembered only bits and pieces. He remembered Johnny’s voice yelling his name and a set of strong arms lifting him up. He remembered the deafening sound of gunshots and deep, muttered curses. He remembered glass shattering and a blast of wind caressing his face. Then he was gone for good.

When he came about again, he was in a familiar tent. His eyelids were heavy and he fought to keep his eyes open. He tried moving his fingertips, his system was responding, only on a much, much slower pace. He shifted in bed with difficulty and failed to get himself into a sitting position. He glimpsed through the tent's opening and registered a strong, blasting sunset. He must have been out of it for at least a day.

In his head, it was quiet. Too quiet. V felt his stomach drop at the realization.

Johnny was gone.

He didn’t have enough time to mourn the loss. The tent’s opening was soon lifted and V winced at the stream of light that re-awakened his acute headache. He groaned a little too loud and the person walking in immediately came to his aid.

“It’s okay, V, take it easy.”

To V’s greatest surprise, it was Panam who was helping him into a sitting position.

“What happened?” said V, voice sore, rusty in sound, “Where’s Johnny?”

“Johnny’s fine,” said Panam with a smile, “It’s you everyone’s worried about.”

“He’s fine...” he whispered to himself, almost not believing his own words. “It worked, didn’t it? Fuck, it worked.”

“I don’t know how you guys did it,” said Panam, laughing slightly but fondly, “When Johnny showed up to camp with your body in his arms everyone drew a gun to his head. Me included. It was… intense. Then he started talking. And there was no mistaking it that this was the same guy you were sharing your head with. He told us the whole story and… You two are a bunch of crazies and I am just happy you made it out alive.”

V laughed for the first time in what felt like forever, and although he coughed his lungs out in the aftermath, it was worth it. He was alive. Johnny was alive. The plan worked. What else could he ask for? The chip was still in his head, sure, imminent death was still a possibility, yeah, but that was a story for another time. Baby steps, as Johnny would say.

And fuck, he suddenly missed him. It felt empty, void, lonely without him in his head. And it had been like what? A few minutes tops? He was a lost case.

“Where’s he now?”

“Running errands for Saul,” said Panam, rummaging through a stash under the bed to retrieve a bottle of water. V’s dry mouth salivated at the sight. “He’s been sitting around waiting for you to wake up and started getting on everyone’s nerves. He’s not exactly a likeable character. So Saul sent him off to prove himself useful and grant the rest of us some peace of mind.”

“Typical Johnny,” he laughed, then chugged the bottle down clean. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and stared at Panam with a side grin. “So, you and Judy, huh?”

Panam’s cheeks gained a hint of red and she nudged him on the leg with the tip of her boot. The pain was minimal, but V cursed at it shooting down his spine.

“So, you and Johnny, huh?” she mocked with a grin. “Wouldn’t have called it in years. Must’ve been tough, having him inside your head all this time.”

V shrugged. “We had our differences, but we somehow made it work.”

“Does he know how much of a lovestruck fool you are for him?”

“The guy’s been living in my head,” said V, “I’m pretty sure he got the picture by now.”

“Oh, wow. You’re not even denying it.”

V’s mouth dropped and his eyebrows curved into a friendly frown.

“Dammit, Panam, less teasing and more helping me back on my feet.”

Panam broke into laughter, then happily complied. They stepped out of the tent into the familiar ground of the Aldelcados camp with a view on the desert-infested landscape stretching beyond.

There was some sort of incomparable beauty to the Badlands, no doubt. But just like Night City, it wasn’t about beauty, it never was. It was about the people and the connections. About the friends, and the acquaintances and, if lucky, romantic partners you make along the way.

People make everything worth it, death included.

_“You done with your dramatic monologue or am I interrupting somethin’?”_

A sudden, strong wave of emotions squeezed V's chest when Johnny’s voice came echoing inside his head.

“Johnny?! How the –”

_“Yeah, bad news. Biochip’s still in your head along with a chunk of myself. You’re not entirely rid of me just yet.”_

“Wait, so you..." V glanced over at Panam’s worried gaze and motioned at his temple. Her eyes sparked open as she seemed to immediately understand. “You heard what I just said?”

“The lovestruck fool part? Hah. You’re a gonk if you think I was going to let that one slide.”

V muttered a silent curse, embarrassment getting the best of him.

“So you’re what? In two places at once? Fuck me.”

 _“I’m on it,”_ came the answer, _“Heads up. Johnny Silverhand upcoming. In the flesh.”_

V raised his head over the horizon with the fraction of a delay, only to catch sight of his car – Johnny’s car – driving at full speed towards the camp. The brakes were hit hard and dry, and with the screeching of tires that left a smell of burnt rubber in the air, Johnny parked in the heart of the camp, right under V and Panam’s noses.

“Hot entrance,” said Panam, “Bet Saul’s gonna whoop his ass for this one.”

V laughed, feeling his heartbeats speeding up hilariously in the process, and watched the car door come open followed by Johnny’s foot swinging out to stomp onto a pile of dust. He remained half-seated, the other foot slightly hovering over the gas pedal, one hand on the steering wheel, the other sliding off his aviators.

“Need a ride?” he said, motioning towards V with the tip of his head, “Get in and let’s get this party started.”

Panam nudged his side slightly.

“V, you’re drooling.”

If Panam hadn’t pointed it out, V would have made a fool out of himself. He closed his mouth shut, and ran a swift hand through his bird nest of a hair. Terrible attempt at looking his best but, he wasn’t exactly caught at the right time.

“You’re looking just _fine_ ,” responded Johnny out loud, and having him right there, all flesh and blood, all real, sparked some sort of epiphany inside V.

“Fuck, I’m screwed,” was all he managed out before nodding towards Panam. He slowly disentangled from her shoulders to make, with slow and steady steps, for the passenger seat.

“Thanks for the help, Nomad chick,” said Johnny, “Tell Saul I took care of his rats. Bonus, I dumped the loot at his doorstep. He owes me at least a dozen.”

“Will do, rockerboy." She crossed her arms with a grin. “You better take good care of my friend. Or who knows, maybe I’ll have you squeezed back into a biochip and shoved up a monkey’s ass.”

“If you find any monkeys in this desert, ring me up," said Johnny, shutting the car door, "I’ll offer myself willingly.”

Panam laughed hard and waved him off.

“See you, V!”

And with that, the Porsche took off into the sunset.

V’s heart persistently hammered under his chest, and he sure as hell hoped Johnny could not pick up on it. Last thing he wanted was to be made fun of by Johnny, _the real Johnny_.

“Feels like I just got picked up for prom night," he said, trying to distract himself.

On the driver's seat, Johnny puffed out a trail of cigarette smoke.

“Calling this a date?”

“I don’t know,” said V, turning his head to him, “ _You_ tell me.”

Johnny flashed him a sly smirk followed by a quick wink that had V's stomach flip. He had to continuously remind himself that this was not a hologram, that this was the real deal. With the minor change to an all-black tank top instead of his signature clothing, the dark, unruly black hair and the rough, thin stubble, and the sun-tanned, scar-filled skin. All of it was real.

“Like what you see?”

V turned his head to the window.

“Yeah. Gotta love the Badlands sunset.”

Johnny scoffed.

“Come on, V, no need to be so shy. Just admit it, you like this. Hell, you’ve been fantasizing about it for weeks, haven’t you? Getting the _whole Johnny package_.”

V was anything but shy. He just learned to enjoy the little moments, the small joys, and this, by far, was one of the biggest moments of his life, something he’s been wanting for so long. And V was about to enjoy every bit of it while while he can.

“Buy me a drink first,” said V smugly, “Then we’ll talk packages.”

Johnny’s grin stretched even wider.

“Buckle up ‘cause that’s exactly where we’re headed.”

“Afterlife?”

“Lizzie’s Bar,” answered Johnny, “Last thing I want is to run into Rogue and a bunch of faceless groupies. Not that I’m not planning to drop by and say hi at some point. Just not tonight. Tonight’s just you, me and a good old bottle of tequila.”

“Planning on getting wasted on your first night out, huh? Preem choice.”

“Hate to burst your lil’ bubble but I got wasted the second I put Arasaka guards behind my back,” said Johnny, “Wasn’t exactly all fun and giggles for the Aldecaldos when I knocked on their door with my wheels all over their cars. I was a mess, and not just because I was drunk. I thought you were gone, V. For real.”

His voice dropped at the last line. V could feel that shock of emotions Johnny was trying to put into words. It was that easy, with their minds still connected. But to Johnny, it must have been anything but fun.

“Thanks,” said V, voice softening a bit, “For saving me, _again_.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to ditch you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, _for now_.”

Johnny didn’t answer that, but V could tell his comment was not appreciated. The rest of the road they spent switching between planning out Johnny’s drinking party pit stops and singing to Samurai songs at the top of their lungs. By the time they entered Night City, the sun had long departed, replaced by neon signs and advertising screens clogging the city view from under.

V was seized by the sudden urge to do something about his jumble of feelings, all of which he’s been holding back for some time now.

And for that, all he needed was the right timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love writing Johnny and V dancing around each other.
> 
> Loving the comments you're all sending my way. They work like magic on my inspiration. Thank you and enjoy!

They entered Lizzie’s bar at exactly 7:30 p.m. The party had barely kicked off, but the second eyes started dancing towards Johnny’s unpredictable appearance, more and more people joined in until the front door grew a stretched line within the next hour.

Drinks kept coming to their side of the table and V, even with his street credits making his name up there among the professionals, could barely scratch the surface of what it felt like to sit at the same table as a legend. A legend that came back from the dead, no less.

Word came out fast, soon everyone was snapping pictures of Johnny and sending them to their private media channels for the Net world to know that the Arasaka terrorist slash Corpo-abolishing enthusiast was back among the living.

And Johnny? Johnny didn’t seem to have a care in the world for anything other than the expensive bottle of tequila some generous groupie sent their way.

V raised his glass.

“To getting back your body.”

“And flipping Arasaka off in the process,” said Johnny, then chugged down his shot.

“Half a century later and you still got a pile of dedicated fans,” said V, eyes locking on the group at the counter who has been stealing glances their way for the past half an hour. “What’s your secret?”

“A massive cock,” answered Johnny right away, “That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t believe them when they start talking personality. All bullshit.”

V laughed, and watched Johnny refill their shot glasses to the brim. V downed the content and slammed the glass to the table, getting a good kick out of the liquor. And fuck, feeling it work through Johnny’s alcohol-starved veins made it all the better.

“Got a smoke?”

“Talk about a bad influence.”

“Johnny, you've been squatting rent-free in my brain for almost a month. Getting me addicted to cigs comes low on the list of your fuck-ups.”

Johnny’s half-smile spoke a silent _fuck you._ He then pulled out his cigarette package, peeled one out of the set for himself and flung the rest across the table. On the other end, V caught it, brought the filter to his lips and lit it up.

He was surprised to find Johnny’s eyes on him, burning a hole in the very sense of the word. V immediately picked up on what he was anticipating. The rush, except it was not the usual kind. With their bodies separate, it was _doubled_.

Elbows on the table, Johnny sucked in a chunk of smoke and held it in. V followed suit. He felt his lungs expand, fill up with a mixture of air and toxic nicotine, battling for the spark of a second to meddle into the flow of his bloodstream. Before his short high came to wear off, Johnny’s kicked in to send him back even higher.

His eyelids felt heavy and the rock music blasting in the background temporarily faded along with the loud party chatter. In that moment, spread over his seat, all V could see was Johnny, and all he could feel was Johnny’s high.

And it only took a glance at the other end of the table to be able to tell that the experience, as unique as it was, was mutually shared.

Johnny exhaled slowly, air carrying the heavy smoke he’s been holding back. It washed over V with the reminder that this could be it. The moment he's been waiting for. But then something happened which V had never had before, his stomach twirled and his mind drew a blank, and it was Johnny who ended up taking the lead.

"So, how's prom?"

V quickly cleared his throat.

“Going all right so far. Entertainment’s neat. Beverages and smokes are a big plus. Prom date's so-so but holds some promise. All in all, I’ll give it a solid eight outta ten. Could do better.”

“Eight, huh?" said Johnny with a smirk, "Watch that turn into a twenty by the end of the evening."

V laughed nervously at that.

"I'll hold you up to it."

"Besides that, how're you holdin' up? Chip's quiet?”

“Yeah, it's fine, I’m fine,” he said, finishing the rest of his cigarette and putting it off. “More than fine, actually. Kind of enjoying this new double-so-intense rush and a _you_ I can talk to without looking crazy from the outside.”

“Well, look at us,” added Johnny, arms lifting up on each side, “Finally having a proper conversation. Feels fucking good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

The moment they shared, however brief it was, came to an end when two strangers, one male, one female, approached their table. V recognized them as part of the groupies at the counter, the only two with enough guts to approach a legendary back-from-the-dead terrorist and a professional merc. Bold move, V had to give it to them. Until one of them asked:

“You boys need some company?”

Then V understood where this was going.

Their dress code was what he would describe as minimalist and flashy. Crop tops, short shorts, pink and purple hair, piercings, and shiny cybernetics all over. V would've even considered the guy who came slipping into the seat next to him his type if Johnny was not sitting at the same table. And fuck, he sure as hell hoped he did not just think that out loud.

He threw a swift glance over the other end of the table to check and found Johnny too busy to care. The girl was straddling his lap and he was lacing an arm around her hips while she whispered whatever cheap dirty-talk she came up with last second. What bothered V was not that Johnny was giving someone else his attention, it was the fact that what she was doing was getting a response out of Johnny's body.

“You must be V,” whispered the guy into his ear and V turned back to his new company. "You're hotter up close. Gotta admit."

V didn’t know what to say. Though, who was he to lie? He did appreciate the attention _and_ the compliment. Especially that those were rare to come by nowadays. So he smiled, and the guy's hand came cupping his crotch and V practically jolted in his seat. That was too forward even for V, but he was too drunk, too high to complain, so he let it happen. Plus, Johnny was having his fun, too, so what was he supposed to do, anyway? Sit back and watch?

Soon the guy's chest came pressing against V's arm and his lips neared his. V was in the middle of leaning in to reciprocate when something sudden, sharp, and painful tugged at his chest and he was sent pulling back with a startled frown.

His eyes fled toward Johnny across the table. He caught him staring back over his lady’s shoulder. All glare and lips pressed into a thin line. It became quickly clear to V that the sharp, tugging feeling in his chest belonged to none other than him.

And V wasn’t a fool. He knew what that feeling was. He knew because he felt it on many occasions before they each got their separate bodies. Whenever V went sleeping with a joytoy or flirted in a bar at random without Johnny's approval. And Johnny's approval was always half-assed. One second he would cheer him on, the next he would start complaining. V knew, now, why he was always so indecisive, so complicated. It all boiled down to _this_.

And _this_ was plain, old school jealousy.

“Fuck it. _”_

That was the thing V registered slipping out of Johnny’s mouth before his silver arm came brushing the girl off his lap and leaning over, knee slamming on the table, practically climbing over it, to reach for V’s collar and pry him out of the guy's claws.

It was Johnny’s hair that touched him first. Soft, raven locks that felt like fire against V’s skin. Then it was the tip of his nose grazing against his. Then his lips. Rough, chapped, hungry. It did not feel like a first kiss to V at all. No. His was the kiss of a man who hadn’t gotten his hand on his lover for a length of time. His was the kiss of someone who’s been fantasizing about this moment, this very second, for a lifetime.

The last thing V picked up on was the laughter of the groupies in the background and the entirety of Lizzie’s bar's rising enthusiasm when _Chippin’ In_ came blasting on full volume. 

Then V curled his fist into that mess of a hair and dropped his mouth open and let himself go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next three chapters are all just plain flirting/smut. You've been warned.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a little hot in here. Someone turn the AC on :>

The moment Johnny practically threw himself on V, that was when the party truly started.

He cornered him on his seat, straddled him behind the table, tasted every inch of his nicotine-filthy mouth and sucked every bit of that sweet expensive tequila off his lips. It was intoxicating, infuriatingly so, and it had Johnny realize just how bad he missed both the touch of another human and _this_ , whatever _this_ was that had this long wait worth his goddamn time. And _this_ was all V’s doing.

V, on the other hand, was more than eager – if that word could even do his _oh my fucking god this is happening_ face justice. Half-hooded eyes, lust-glowing crimson irises, and lips to bite for days. His rough, restless fingernails had been tugging at Johnny’s hair and bruising his jaw just to strike the perfect angle and proceed to shove his tongue so deep down his throat Johnny would forget where they were and what kind of attention they were dragging.

Not that he cared, really. He gave two shits about the bar’s reaction, or the kind of scene they were making. This was Night City, the worst that could happen was getting the audience to jerk off to your heavy make out session. It was rather the discomfort resulting from his cock pulsating under his jeans, begging to be unhooked, that had the heat start getting to Johnny’s head, and as much as he wanted to get down and dirty right here, right now, he wanted to do this right.

He made V wait this long. The least he could do was be a gentleman about it.

“ _You,_ a gentleman?” scoffed V, pink tongue flicking over his swollen lips. “Right, and I’m NC’s new mayor.”

“Honestly, kid?” sighed Johnny, a hand curled around V’s neck, “If it weren’t for the cocksucking potential, I would’ve done somethin’ about that filthy mouth of yours.”

V laughed, and his alcohol-heavy breath and glistening eyes had Johnny want to dive right back in. But he jumped back on his two feet instead, and pulled V along with him.

“Really, _dancing?_ ” said V, though he let himself be guided through the thick crowd and onto the dance floor. “What happened to the tactless, asshole Johnny I loved and adored?”

“That guy was not given an eight outta ten,” said Johnny, turning to face him with a frown, “A fucking _eight_ , V, that’s an insult. That’s a stain in my fuckin’ career. Worse than a bullet to the head. Hell, I’d rather get my brains blown out again than be that _one eight-outta-ten fuck_ you forget to mention to your friends ‘cause it was so _average_ you nearly forgot about it, too.”

“Aw, Johnny,” purred V, grinning, “Had no idea you worried about being forgotten on my list of one-night-stands.”

Johnny didn’t bother answering. He just flipped him off and received another laugh out of those pretty lips. With yet another Samurai classic blasting on full stereo, this time _A Like Supreme_ , Johnny felt the confidence of over half a decade cascade through his tangible skin and down his corporeal spine.

He was back. He was real. And he was unstoppable.

They danced like a bunch of wild beasts for the hour to come, and it wasn’t just them. The whole bar seemed suddenly in the mood, joining and crowding the dance floor to lose their heads to the heavy rock jam. Half-way through the final guitar riff, Johnny could swear he was seeing stars in V’s eyes.

The dance floor was so full, so crowded, that he had to keep an arm around V’s waist for fear of losing him in the mass. Maybe part of him was just possessive, eager to show off what belonged to him, even for just tonight, and looking at V’s pretty face and sexy body and gorgeous everything, he had a good reason to.

He was _hot_ , Johnny had to hand him that. And in a bar filled with dozens of hungry predators, he knew he wasn’t alone thinking it. And having lived in V’s head, he sometimes wondered if the man even noticed it himself.

In front of him, V was too lost in the music to hear his own thoughts. Johnny gave him another look over. White hair slick with sweat, eyes hooded and hungry, and a permanent grin plastered on his mouth. Johnny didn’t need to ask how he was doing. He could feel it. The excitement, the rush, the euphoria flooding through his body. V was having the time of his life because of _him_ and Johnny was getting such a kick out of it he was so close to flipping off that one guy who thought he was sneakily throwing glances their way.

Instead, he tugged V by the hips, realizing how he dropped a few inches when Johnny’s breath came tickling his skin. V might be taller, but the second the right buttons were pushed, he tended to let himself go. Right now, he was looping his arms around Johnny’s neck and resting his head on his shoulder, melting into the lazy kisses that were being trailed up to his ear.

“Night’s still young,” Johnny spoke right into it, “And this old man’s planning to release fifty years’ worth of bottled-up sexual tension. Think you have what it takes?”

He could feel him shudder from head to toe. Then V removed his arms from around his neck and let his palms press to Johnny’s chest. Those beautiful black-tinted fingernails dug into the fabric of his tank top and _yanked_. Noses brushing, lips touching but not quite, Johnny could write a song about just how fucking alive he made him feel.

“Is that a warning?” he said. What a tease.

“Or a promise,” said Johnny, brushing a hand through V’s hair, “You take your pick, sweetheart.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” was all V could manage, and _bingo_. Dirty talk _and_ pet names. Johnny was crafting a mental list of things that turned V on and, from how easily frustrated he was constantly getting him, the list was turning into a damn book.

Then V was apparently having no more of the beating-around-the-bush. When the song came to its end with the next track blasting across the bar, the palm on his chest took another fistful of Johnny’s shirt and dragged him out of the crowd and through the door that led to the private booths.

Johnny was a simple man. When he saw V striding down the corridor with big, purposeful steps that were meant to scare anyone out of his way, he couldn’t help but tug him right back by the wrist, shove him against the nearest wall, and kiss him dirty. V gave right into it, no struggling, no back-talking. He just plain crumbled in his arms and _fuck_ , that did things to Johnny.

Someone whistled in the background and another yelled _Can I join?_ and Johnny started wondering just how many eyes were on them. Sure, he might enjoy the spotlight, but give a man a fucking break.

V must have noticed because he was placing a kiss on his cheek and giving his backside a light squeeze.

“Let’s get in before you shoot someone.”

They did exactly that. Then, at the door to one of the small rooms, Johnny stopped to watch V strut across the space already shedding his jacket. He took in the sight with slight reluctance, and V was quick to pick up on it.

“What is it now?”

“Planning for our first time to be in some cheap bar’s backroom dump?” he scoffed, “Come on, V. You’re better than this.”

V laughed like he had made a joke.

“ _First time_?” he said, “Really, Johnny? What are you, fourteen?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Fuck you. You know I’m right.”

V laughed even harder, then reached back to grab Johnny’s hand and pull him along.

“Do you trust me?”

“Jesus fuck, that has nothing to do with –“

“Good. Now sit down, relax, and let me take care of the rest.”

Johnny had lost the will to complain once he was forcefully shoved down on the couch and V’s came straddling him with his hips and _holy fuck,_ _the guy had legs for days._

Even still, this place, this bar, this was not exactly what he had in mind.

“C’mon, Johnny, don’t give me that nasty look,” said V, rolling his hips for trial, “Promise I’ll just suck you off. Part two’s at my place. We good?”

“Say that again and I might just change my mind.”

“Nah,” said V, “you’re too much of a romantic to have your _first time_ in a bar’s backroom booth.”

“You –” Johnny lost the curse in V’s mouth. When he pulled back, he knew there was no talking him out of this. “Jesus Christ, V, you’re a slut, you know that? Get on your fucking knees.”

And if Johnny had known all it took was an order with a side-dish of name-calling, he would have worked his magic earlier. V was eagerly lifting himself up and getting on his knees right between Johnny’s parted legs. Johnny didn’t need to initiate a damn thing. V’s fingers were already taking the liberty of unbuckling his belt and unzipping the opening.

“Oh, look at that,” said V, “Lil’ Johnny’s all hard for me.”

“Call it that again and I’ll be diagnosed with erectile dysfunction.”

V puffed out a laugh and started palming the bulge hidden under his tented boxers. Johnny let out a sigh of discomfort, desperate to get the last piece of fabric off his skin, but V was apparently enjoying it, what with taking his time and all. He massaged along the outline of the length and mouthed at its hardened tip. Fifty fucking years, Johnny had almost forgotten how good this felt. Second-hand orgasms, my ass, he _needed_ this. And he needed it _now_.

“Easy there, champ’,” came V’s sultry voice, “I’ll make you feel good. Promise. It’ll be just you, me, and the neighbors from downstairs screaming at us to shut it.”

Johnny let out a breathy laugh, and moved his metal hand to run his fingers through V’s messy hair. V seemed to like it, and as a reward, he dipped into each side of Johnny’s boxers and pulled down. Johnny’s cock came springing out in the open, stiff and slightly dripping. They were hardly past the teasing and he could tell he wasn’t going to last long.

“Impressive, my ass. Try legendary,” sighed V, mouth dropping at the sight, “Fuck, Johnny, why’d you gotta be so sappy? I could have you bend me right over this couch and –”

Johnny wasn’t having anymore of his blabbering. He clutched his hand around his hair and tugged him towards his cock. Thankfully V got the message and parted his lips to guide the tip into his humid mouth. His tongue came softening the sensitive skin and Johnny’s head was sent back with a groan.

V wasn’t the kind to sleep around a lot. Johnny knew that because he was squatting in his head for at least a month watching him try to wriggle his way out of his hormonal imbalance by shooting cyberpsychos and beating up guys twice his size. He was the king of holding it in until he gets blue balls and rushes to the first option at hand – joytoys, usually. Bar hook-ups, rarely. With that in mind, having his mouth work Johnny like he was the best of what Jig-Jig street could offer was something he wouldn’t have seen coming from miles away. Wet tongue and hollowed cheeks and soft moaning noises and _fuck_ , just when he thought he couldn’t take him in any deeper, his jaw slackened and V’s nose came hitting his pelvis and Johnny was _gone_.

He deepthroated him like there was no tomorrow. Like it was just another skill he had under the belt. Like he was made for this. Johnny was seeing white by the time he repeated the motion and held it, partially choking himself in the process.

And sure, why not, what better timing for V to display his oral fixation kink than now? Johnny was played real fucking dirty and if he didn’t say he loved it he’d be a liar.

The moment he knew V liked having his mouth used, there was no stopping him. The fist clutched tightly around his hair and he bucked his hips instantly, fucking his throat like his life depended on it. When the sweet high flung him into heaven and back, Johnny needed ten more seconds just to re-anchor himself back to the land of the living. Then his eyes fell down on V, and found him all swollen lips and mouth full of come. And the look in his eyes? Now _that_ was legendary.

“Be a good boy and swallow it,” he said, pressing a thumb to V’s chin. “You know you want to.”

V let out something close to a whine. Then his lips closed shut, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and when he reopened his mouth, any traces of what just happened were gone.

“Who would’ve thought you had such a fuckable mouth?”

“Who would’ve thought you moaned like a whore?” said V with a half-smirk, “If a blowjob got you all worked up like this, I wonder if you’ll pass out on me when we get down and dirty.”

Johnny snatched his lips for a kiss, tasting himself in the process.

“God dammit you talk too much,” he said, licking off the residue, “I liked you better when you were taking orders. Didn’t know you were a slut for that, by the way. High profile merc chipped to the gills likes being told to bend over? Now that’s something I could work with.”

“Jesus – Johnny, _please_.”

Johnny looked V over and found his face had gained a shade. Strong facade aside, the man was a mess on his knees, palming his own crotch for a sense of release he felt strongly second-hand. They both knew what was coming next. The only difference was, V wanted it right here, right now, and Johnny liked to have him all hot and bothered. It was good for a change. And If dragging him down the street and back to his apartment was going to have this last, then so be it.

“Come on, on your feet, cupcake,” he said, lightly patting his cheek, “We’re walking.”

“Fuck you, Johnny,” groaned V, and for once that line did not come out laced with anger. “Seriously, fuck you.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll even let you,” he said, getting up to zip up his pants with a smirk. “Like I said. Night’s still young. And I have a good feeling we’re gonna be doing it ‘til one of us passes the fuck out.”

And Johnny was not even exaggerating.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut continues. 
> 
> Enjoy

Their way to V’s apartment took twice its usual time. Reason? They have been making out at every second corner.

This included the parking lot in front of Lizzie’s Bar, the alleyway five steps down the road, in the middle of the street with cars aggressively honking, inside Megabuilding H10’s marketplace, against the elevator door while waiting for it to descend, and _inside_ the elevator once it arrived. V pushed his luck and got so very close to getting Johnny down on his two knees, except what he was hoping for never happened, with them reaching the top level and V hurriedly pulling up his pants before any familiar faces could catch him.

Johnny was not about to let that one slide.

“Afraid of getting caught?” he said, palm shoved down V’s back pocket while they slipped past turning heads on their way out, “So you _do_ give a shit about what people think.”

“I don’t,” insisted V, “Just got a reputation to uphold.”

“Fuck your reputation,” said Johnny right against his ear, “I got something that can make you feel ten times better than whatever those street creds you whore yourself out for can do. Like, come on, V, live your fuckin’ life for once.”

V turned to him with a frown.

“And do what exactly? Bet you got suggestions.”

“Glad you’re asking. Got a list of 'em actually. Let me read it between your legs, for starters.”

“You’re not giving me a blowjob in front of a whole megabuilding, Johnny, for fuck’s sake. Forget it.”

Johnny threw his head back with a bored groan.

“God, you’re such a pussy,” he sighed, “At least say fuck it and slam me against a wall or somethin’. Anything but walking a straight line. Not built for this shit.”

And shortly after they passed Coach Fred, V took him right up on the offer. He shoved him against one of the vending machines so hard he could hear it crack against his back and kissed him breathless. He could swear he heard someone yell _way to go, V_ somewhere in the background. As a payback, Johnny waited until they reached his apartment floor and lifted him over the edge of the half-wall that gave onto the megabuilding’s center.

They were hanging a few dozens of floors up high, and V’s heart leapt out of his chest when he was bent slightly backwards, supported only by Johnny’s metal arm. As a reflex, he locked his legs around his waist.

“What the fuck, Johnny?” he spat, fist clenching around his dog tags.

“Relax. Just spicin’ things up a bit.”

“By _flatlining_ me?”

“Could’ve done that while I was still inside your head. Spoiler alert. I didn’t. Now shut your trap and _feel_ it.”

V had nothing to say to that. The answer was clear when he let go of the dog tags to let himself get kissed silly while half-hanging in the air, with only Johnny’s arm standing between him and a humiliating makeout-gone-wrong death. On the list of crazy romantic slash sexual adventures, this one was striking number one, no questions.

“Calling _those_ adventures?” mocked Johnny with the roll of his eyes, "Didn't know you were so vanilla.”

“Says the guy who wouldn’t fuck me in the backroom of a bar.”

“Got a big mouth for someone who’s hanging by a thread.”

That was hardly a threat. V simply laughed at it. When he was eased back onto safe ground, he realized he’d been holding back a breath. His heart was palpitating with adrenaline coursing down his spine. And as much as he hated agreeing with Johnny, the asshole was right about the _spicing things up_ part. He could feel his crotch dripping, having made whatever kind of mess down there.

“See? Wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

Johnny breathed out a chuckle and pressed a soft peck to the corner of V’s lips. The action was so gentle, so _not Johnny_ , it had V freeze momentarily in his stance, then the other let go.

“You coming?” he said, “Close to getting a case of blue balls over here.”

The way he walked away from him, the hand running through his hair, the swaying of his hips, the curving of his ass, it all had V swallow harshly.

He had a dozen of intense lovers in the past but _this –_

This was something else entirely.

The second the door closed behind them, V was shoved right back against it. His jacket was ripped off his body, thrown somewhere on the floor to be joined by Johnny’s tank top. V’s mouth dropped at the view. Slightly toned built, tattoos spread all over the skin, a dozen scars that spoke each a story –

“Fuckin’ me with your eyes?” he said, “Step up your game, V. We both know what we came here for.”

The door slammed again, this time to Johnny’s back when V flipped them over. He heard him chuckle, then his amusement turned into a guttural curse when V’s lips came trailing down his neck, making sure to leave a set of bruises to remind himself that _holy fuck, this was the real Johnny_.

And the thought has gotten into his head, has gotten his heart palpitating and his crotch pulsating, and between pushing and pulling, they made it to the bed, V’s back to the mattress with Johnny straddling him on top, having managed to kick off their shoes in the process.

“Looking all ready for me,” he said, hands working on unclipping V’s belt. “Can smell your cunt under all these layers. Made a fuckin’ mess down there, didn't you?”

As riled up as he was, V couldn’t help a snarky come-back.

“Soundin’ tough for someone whose cock is leaking.” He nudged his foot against his bulge, feeling it stiffen to the touch. “Want to fuck this cunt so badly, don’t you? Got yourself real desperate over the years, huh, old man?"

"Hate to break it to ye', hot shot, but I fuck Capitalism on a daily basis, so don’t go feeling all special.”

He might have said that, but V could feel him rocking his hips against the touch. V's grin grew wider, unfazed.

“That a yes, then?”

“It’s a get your fucking legs up, slut, or I’m tearing those pants off you myself.”

Now Johnny was full-on frowning, his hand grabbing V’s crotch and palming through the damp clothed area.

“Fuck yeah,” groaned V, arching up slowly into the touch, “Dirty talk me some more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Johnny did not answer that and simply went to grip V’s pants and tug them off in one-go. V gasped when his boxers slid along, and was nearly dragged down the bed in the process if it weren’t for Johnny’s steady grip pinning him right back on it.

“Let me make something clear, kid,” said Johnny, his hand trailing up his inner thigh to grip a handful of V's flesh. “When I said I’d fuck you raw, I wasn’t just trying to get you off to the sound of my voice. I _meant_ it. So unless you’re planning to take a couple days off the job to get back on your feet, I wouldn’t push it too far with the teasing.”

V felt every word course down his spine with a thrill, his teeth sinking hard into his bottom lip while Johnny’s sharp gaze took in the sight of him unfolding under. They did things to him, those hungry eyes of his, settled on only himself. V reached out to caress his cheek fondly.

“You know what?” he said, letting out a soft sigh. “Just ‘cause you look so damn hot playing input-dom, I’m willing to let you have this round.”

“ _Willing_?” Johnny laughed. “You're cute.”

V would love to stretch out the bickering session even longer but, _one_ , he was dripping wet, and _two_ , Johnny was placing a peck onto the middle of his palm while unzipping his own pants. His cock came jumping out in the open, all hard and ready and –

 _“_ Fuck, forget everything I said. _Just fuck me._ ”

“Who’s the desperate whore now?”

“Johnny _, please –_ “

“Yeah, yeah,” he hummed proudly, “And by the way, Jig-Jig street called. Said they don’t want their joytoy back if it’s broken. Guess who's keeping you after this?”

V had barely any time to reply when Johnny’s fingers came pushing inside him. He grunted despite trying hard to keep his voice down. As delighted as he was to getting finger-fucked, he was desperate for more and so he moved his hips to meet the slick thrusts. Johnny was far from gentle and the arbitrary rhythm had V on edge, anticipating what came next. He would switch between three digits down to one and V would whine at the emptiness he's left feeling inside. Then, and as if the teasing was not enough, Johnny dipped his head to take his cock inside his mouth and V's entire body shuddered from head to toe, pleasure shooting through him at once.

Hands clutched to the bed sheet, nearly ripping the fabric in the process, V found himself edging an orgasm he didn't expect so soon. Then all three fingers came pulling out of him and he let out an undignified groan. On top of him, Johnny looked smugly pleased with himself.

“Nah, not gonna let you get there just yet, sweetheart. Now where's the fun in that?”

“Johnny, _fuck –"_

The spot next to V’s head dipped under the weight of his metal hand, while the other gathered V’s to brush his lips against the knuckles. The touch was so intimate it sent something throbbing under his chest.

“Day in and day out, I watched you wriggle your way into dumpster-town only to get you right where I wanted.” Johnny whispered the words slowly, carefully, while he spread V’s hand against his cheek and began guiding it down to his chest, “This turns you on? It turns _me_ on. Wanna know why? Whole damn city’s waiting for you to scoop up dog shit off their doorsteps and here you are, putting all them fuckers on hold to get dicked down by Johnny fuckin’ Silverhand.”

“Fuck me,” V half-cried, voice raspy, “Just shove your cock inside me now, for fuck’s sake, Johnny!”

Johnny dragged his hand even lower.

“Uh-huh, _and_?”

“Jesus –" V’s voice broke, feeling the hard bulge against his palm and immediately curled his fingers around it. “Please – ah _fuck_ , I just – I need it, I need your cock. I need it inside me. Need you to fuck my brains out. To call me your bitch, your whore, your cum-dump. Fuck everything, this is all I want. Been thinkin' about it since day one and fuck, Johnny, anything. I'll do anything you want, just _fuuu –"_

Whatever the hell V had said that made Johnny decide it was time to skip the teasing, it worked. The small room echoed with a stretched, high-pitched moan V hardly recognized as his own. He felt it, with his fingers around the tip, V felt Johnny’s length as it pressed against his entrance and slide inside his cunt with minimal effort. V needed a moment to adjust to the girth, after that he forgot where he was and who he was.

The bed creaked underneath them. Johnny’s hair tickled his face when he came looming over to clasp the headboard for balance. The look on his face while he filled him like there was no tomorrow was something V was seeing for the first time. He was getting off to V’s every reaction. The louder V moaned, the harder he’d bite his lip. Bonus if V moaned his name while simultaneously begging for him to go _faster_ and _harder_ , then Johnny would shove inside him hard and fast and V would throw his head back and enjoy getting what he deserved for being a fucking tease.

The Johnny in V’s head was something. The Johnny in V’s bed was something else entirely. Only the corporeal manifestation of NC’s legend could hit spots so deep inside V that even he was not aware existed until then. Then there was the hair pulling and the light choking and the getting flipped around and rammed into like V was living through a real-life BD with every last one of his kinks served up on the menu. When Johnny, all the way inside him, came biting the edge of his ear and whispering _“Fuck, Vincent, you’re so good for me”_ V knew, right then and there, he was done for.

His orgasm hit him so intensely he drew a blank for a good ten seconds, the time Johnny spent riding him through it until tears came creeping at the corner of his eyes. When Johnny's hand untangled from his hair and V’s body came falling into the mattress, all exhaustion and post-orgasm convulsion, he knew this was not the end of it.

Over his shoulder, Johnny pecked his neck and said:

“Good morning, sunshine. One round down. Four more to go.”

And that was a promise V knew he was planning to hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed to write V topping Johnny and this is the story of why you get an extra chapter.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! We made it!
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be just smut but I decided to sprinkle some feelings in there.
> 
> Enjoy

For the next hour, Johnny and V managed to do it all over the apartment. Twice on the bed, once against the living room table, and in the shower where V thought he was led there for a romantic after-sex clean-up, except it ended with his back against the wall, his legs around Johnny’s waist, and Johnny’s cock riding him through his fourth orgasm.

By the end of it, Johnny’s stamina had begun to subdue and V’s was suddenly spiking up once more. Johnny left him to catch his breath in the shower and went to grab a smoke by the window. V used the moment to rummage through his collection of strap-ons and showed up in the living room with a few extra inches.

“Nice cock,” said Johnny, staring him up and down. His chest was slick with sweat, still heaving from the straining sexual workout they’ve been at for hours. “Question is. You got any energy left to use it? Cause I made sure I fucked you into a coma at least twice by now.”

“You wish,” said V, striding in his direction. “Get on the couch.”

Johnny blew out a line of smoke, eyebrow quirking.

“And if I don’t?”

“I’d fuck you standing. Think I care?”

“Confidence. I like it,” he said, ashing his cigarette. “I gotta say. You got me curious. But there’s no way you’d be topping _my_ performance.”

V was about to take him right up on the offer. He narrowed the distance between them and to Johnny’s condescending smirk, held him by the hips and flipped him around to face the wall. From the lack of struggle he was met with, V could almost say the man was eager.

His hand came gathering Johnny’s hair into a fist but V didn’t pull. Instead, he gently lifted up the locks to expose the back of his neck, finding the skin there slick with sweat, and leaned in to taste it. Of all the possible moves, Johnny was apparently expecting that one the least, and it showed in the way his body shifted and his throat squeezed out a sigh.

“Neck kisses, _really_? What else are you into, slow, soft, tender sex? And you’re calling _me_ vanilla.”

“Eat a dick.”

And for lack of an actual answer, V thought why the hell not, and gave it a shot.

He started by easing Johnny’s head to the side, slowly, carefully, and as Johnny followed the motion, V began trailing a line of pecks from the back of his ear down to his shoulder blade. Then the pecks turned into kisses and the kisses into tongue-trailing, open-mouthed sucking that left quick-fading bruises and sent a delicious shiver down his spine.

Johnny didn’t seem to react at first, certainly too proud to give into V’s teasing. V moved his hips to align himself behind him, his cock slightly nudging between Johnny’s legs. He gave slow, steading thrusts so as to spark a minimum amount of friction between his thighs, and was surprised to receive an unexpectedly sultry groan with Johnny’s legs shivering in the aftermath. His frustrated glare was already fixing V over the shoulder.

“Fucking hell, V, you made your fuckin’ point. Is it gonna take another half a decade just to get you started?”

V’s lips stretched into a pleased grin.

“Don’t worry, princess. Promise I’ll take good care of you.”

V straddled him on the couch and showered his skin further with tender caresses and gentle, open-mouthed kisses. Johnny was practically melting when the realization hit V. He understood now why Johnny was always teasing him for being too sappy, too soft, too vanilla. The answer was easy: Johnny _wanted_ to be treated exactly that way.

And honestly? V was not even surprised.

A guy with that kind of past, full of anger and petty against a world so unjust, striving to make something, anything remotely better out of it rather than submit to its rotten corruption. Someone who constantly hurts and lies and disappoints just to get the attention, to get seen, recognized, acknowledged. Someone who likes the spotlight less because it feeds his ego and more because it reminds him he matters, makes him feel he’s at least good at something. V didn’t need to dig deeper to understand that all Johnny ever wanted was to _be_ wanted. To be understood, cared for, maybe even loved and desired.

And those were things V was more than willing to give him.

But for now, splayed under him, all Johnny wanted was release. And V was happy to oblige. He unpacked the bottle of lube and worked two slick fingers to stretch him up from the inside until he started calling him names and urging him to _shove it in already._ It didn’t take long for V to give in to his wishes.

He spread some lube over his cock and gave it a few strokes before easing himself into him. Underneath him, Johnny’s legs parted wide open, his metal arm covering his eyes while his tattooed fist clasped the edge of the seat in tension. His breathing was kept to a minimum, a failed attempt at keeping quiet. _Failed_ , because with every upcoming thrust, he would tense up, and his throat would force out a moan.

“Feeling good, princess?”

V’s comment received a middle finger in response. It made him chuckle. It was endearing, the kind of vulnerability Johnny was showing him – and only to _him_. V did not need to nose through Johnny’s memories to recognize the man had never been the _input_ before tonight. He’d been with men before, sure, but never on the receiving end.

V didn’t know what to do with that information. It warmed his chest to know how much Johnny was trusting him. So when he flipped him off, V happily kissed his silver knuckles, then mouthed a trail down his metal wrist, to his inner elbow, to the spot where his metal arm met his skin. The surface tasted like cold iron, and V was doubtful Johnny felt any of it, though by the time he was raising his head, Johnny’s eyes were staring right back at him.

And _god dammit_ , the look on his face told a whole new story.

Parted lips and dazed eyes and a desperate, stubborn frown. He _was_ feeling it. Hell, he was feeling it a _little too much,_ even.

“Didn’t know you had a cybernetic arm fetish.”

“You think?” scoffed Johnny, tone dripping with sarcasm, “The number of heads I ripped off with this hand and here you are body-worshipping it like it’s made out of glass. Anyone would lose their head a little over that.”

“Is that what’s happening?” teased V, slowly intertwining their fingers together, “You’re falling for my, what’d you call it, _sappy love making_?

Johnny’s head fell back with an annoyed groan.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“It’s all right, Johnny, go ahead and let it out,” said V, hand slowly pressing his over his head, hips coming to a slow halt, enjoying the heat wrapping him from the inside. “Let your soft side take a dash of sweet talking and tell me how much you like it. Maybe then I’ll consider fucking you slowly, gently, making sure to drag every last moan out of you. How about I get you on edge and leave you hanging, anticipating? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ll moan my name and beg me to finish what I started. Then you’ll come undone, right here, under me, while I – _Woah_ , you’re really feeling this, aren’t you? You’re twitching like crazy.”

“Fuck –" Johnny grunted, eyes glaring daggers while he bucked his hips, searching for the lost friction, “What do I have to do for you to shut the fuck up and move?”

“Easy,” said V, “Admit there’s more to this than just _fucking_. Hell, I’ll even be nice and give you a lil’ taste. See?”

V gave slow, almost lazy thrusts, and he could tell he had nudged a soft spot in the process because Johnny’s head was hitting the couch so hard that a loud groan was tearing out of him against his will.

“God fuckin’ – _Fine_!” he spat out loud, “You want me to say it? I’ll say it. You and I are fucked up in the head. We went from parasites to symbiotes and called it an upgrade. We feed off of each other’s shit and call it romance. So codependent NC’s air pollution bows down to our _toxic supreme_. Thought you were getting yourself rid of me? Well bad fucking news, V. We’re gonna kill each other off and feel good doing it. That the confession you were fishing for? Preem, now get your cock-cunt moving before I – _Fuck!_ “

The last of his words were overridden by a silent, open-mouthed moan. V filled him all the way in, over and over again, until every thrust was met with a whole-body shudder and a set of curses that hardly made any sense. When he noticed he was close, he curled his fingers around his cock, hard and dripping, and pumped him rhythmically to the motion of his hips.

It didn’t take long until he was arching his back and coming all over V’s hand and his abdominal region. The orgasm was so intense V could feel it second-hand, and he even spilled a little without noticing. Under him, Johnny fell motionless for a good moment, dragging in harsh, unsteady breaths.

“You okay?”

“Fuckin’ look okay to you?” he bit back, huffing, “You fucked my brains out, V. Congrats and all that. Throw a damn party if you will.”

V laughed and moved to pull out, hearing him hiss from oversensitivity. He sank back on his knees to unclip his strap-on while Johnny reached over the coffee table for a cigarette. He brought it to his lips only to realize he left the lighter by the window. Instead of getting up, he turned to V.

“What?” said V.

“You know exactly what.”

“Want me to get you something? You ask nicely.”

Johnny laughed.

“Wait, you serious? Fuck, you’re serious.”

V shrugged. “Taming you’s hard work. But it’ll pay off eventually.”

Johnny threw his head back, shoving a hand behind his head and grunting, cigarette dangling down his lips, unlit. V took that as a _fuck off_ and began standing up when Johnny started talking.

“This isn’t about taming, is it? Getting soft on me, aren’t you, V?”

V’s eyes lingered over the window side. He was close to throwing the lighter over just to get it over with, but he decided against it. This conversation might be going exactly where he wanted.

“You know what? Yeah,” said V, turning to him with crossed arms, “You’re one to talk, though. Making it sound like it’s one-sided.”

“Cause it’s not?”

“You literally came with me whispering a bunch of soft shit inside your ear,” shrugged V, “I don’t know, Johnny, but this doesn’t sound like it’s just about sex to me.”

With that, V grabbed the lighter and threw it to his direction. Johnny caught it mid-air but didn’t light the cigarette right away. Instead, he stared at the ceiling for a bit longer, until V said _fuck this_ and went under the shower.

When he came out, damp and clean, he found the couch empty. He thought Johnny had left only to find he had switched to the comfort of the bed, now sprawled all over it, stark naked, another cigarette in mouth and a trail of smoke floating to the ceiling.

“Get up, I wanna sleep.”

“V, listen –"

“Save it,” he cut him short, “Just get on the couch. Or get out. I don’t care.”

“Just fuckin’ _listen_ ,” he insisted, pushing himself up in a sitting position, elbows pressed to the knees, eyes staring at V. “Two things I gotta say to this. One It doesn’t take a genius to recognize I’m not exactly romance material. Have you seen me? Come on V, fifty years of _nothing_. Stomped upon like a bug by Arasaka and left to freeze in their basement bathroom tub. Bottom line is, I’m dry out of feeling. Two. _You_ can do better.”

V flashed him a glare.

“Why’re you lyin’?” he spat, “Hate to remind ye’, Johnny, but chip’s got me snooping into your _dear diary_ brain. Got all those juicy feelings right here, jumping at me like crickets. You gonna be pulling out poor excuses to shoot me down? Do it properly.”

Johnny let his head hang down his shoulders with a sigh.

“Privacy, my ass,” he mumbled, “If you’re so smart and wise why don’t you just take what you get and move on, then? If you’re fishing for a proper confession, good fucking luck.”

“Doesn’t matter what I _want,_ Johnny. Just stop living in denial for once. Cowering behind that big tough façade of yours and for what?”

Johnny raised his head with a scoff.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Hey, at least I’m not a coward.”

“’Cause _you_ admitted your feelings of undying love?” he mocked and V’s eyes narrowed at that. “What? The closest you got to a confession was _I like you like that_ , _Johnny,_ whatever the hell that means. You’re no better.”

V rolled his eyes and turned his back to him. “Fuck off. Still less of an emotionally constipated coward than you are.”

“You know what? Maybe I am,” came Johnny’s answer after a short pause, “’Cause unlike you, I didn’t exactly grow up braiding someone’s hair and talking feelings. Didn’t learn to share. Actions spoke louder than words, that’s what they taught us. Don’t say it, show it. That’s it, that’s all that matters. Fuck the rest. Fuck the _love you, o’ apple of my ass_ , and the _let me declare my deepest longing, my dearest cock_. None of that bullshit matters.”

V might have been furious at him but he couldn’t help the muffled chuckle that escaped his lips. When he heard him again, Johnny’s voice was closer.

“Look at me, V.”

He turned his head first and his body followed. Johnny was one step away from reach, looking at him with eyes that held more feelings than he liked to admit. And V wanted to believe what he just said, that actions spoke louder than words. So he let Johnny cup his face with both hands, the touch gentle, calculated, and he let him tilt his head to the side and he let him kiss him.

And it was nothing like the series of lustful, hungry exchanges they have shared throughout the night. _This_ was nothing like it. _This_ was charged with feelings, pure as that, and more. Feelings Johnny did not know how to put into words and maybe that was all right, maybe that wasn’t so terrible, maybe they could work on it. Tomorrow. Next week. In the future. Give it some time. V was willing to wait.

When their lips parted and Johnny bumped his forehead to his, V felt the last traces of anger leave him in a sigh.

“Get it now?” said Johnny. “Or you still need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yeah, or actually – _no_ ,” sighed V, eyes dropping between them, “You’re kissing me with your dick out, Johnny. Congrats. You literally ruined the fuckin’ moment. Do you even know what romance is?”

“Can I get it on pizza?”

“You can get my dick on pizza.”

“I’ll take it.”

V rolled his eyes and teasingly pushed his chest, grinning.

“Speaking of pizza. Can you order us something? ‘M starving.”

“Sure, _honey_. Want a back massage while at it?”

“Yeah, why not,” said V, walking him by to get on the bed, “Thanks for offering, _apple o’ my ass_.”

Johnny flipped him off and disappeared in the shower. He came out ten minutes later when V was half-lulled with sleep. He felt the bed sink under his weight and soft locks came tickling his chin. He half-opened his eyes to find him nestled on his chest, cigarette in mouth, all comfortable. V moved his hand to run his fingers through his hair and Johnny hummed at the welcomed touch and moved his head lazily to catch his stare.

“Dick pizza’s on the way.”

V chuckled then trailed his fingers down his cheek, grazed his thumb against his bottom lip, watched how his eyelashes fluttered shut to the contact, and felt that this was it, that this was what he’s been missing.

“Fuck it. I’m gonna say it,” he said with a frown, “I fuckin’ love you, Johnny. I do. And you can’t change that. So you take it or leave it. I don't care. Not gonna change how I feel."

And Johnny didn’t need to say a word to that. V felt the rush of reciprocation course through him, swift, clear. It was mutual. It always has been. Then Johnny laughed, called him a _wimp,_ passed him the cigarette and V took a few drags. They laid there staring at the ceiling and sharing terrible jokes until the delivery guy rang the door. Johnny received him with his dick still out in the open. V was choking in the background, watching him practically run away. Then they ate, and Johnny nearly choked at how good it felt to have actual food in his mouth after all this time.

They listened to music. Johnny talked about getting his guitar back from Kerry. Talked about meeting up with Rogue, getting the band back together. He gave V his word to help out with the biochip. He promised to have his back from now on, no matter what. V listened to it all with a tired smile. Until the light of dawn came creeping through the cracks of the window blinders and they both fell asleep curled up and warm on each other’s heat, believing in a tomorrow that, for once, will be worth living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wrote a 20k fanfic within a week but here we are. I just love these two so much I could do it all over again.
> 
> Part 2 here I come.
> 
> Ps: Thank you to all those who read, left kudos, and comments of appreciation. I love you <3


End file.
